


Midnight Hotline

by Electra_XT



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Happy Ending, M/M, Misunderstandings, Phone Sex, Sexual Fantasy, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-25
Updated: 2019-08-29
Packaged: 2020-09-26 02:09:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20381947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Electra_XT/pseuds/Electra_XT
Summary: Diego shifted. Part of him wanted to tell Luther to get back in bed and play dead until dawn, tell him better luck next time, put down the phone and roll over and let the three A.M. blackness submerge him again. He’d told Luther to call him, though.“There’s one other thing you could do,” Diego said.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to bismuthBallistics for the excellent beta!

“Consider it a gift,” Al said.

“There has to be a catch,” Diego said, looking down at the box with the brand-new cordless phone in it.

“There is no catch,” Al said. “I don’t want to see you thumping around my office and knocking things over at every hour of the day and night. I don’t want to hear the one upstairs ring ever again unless it’s someone signing up for the gym. This is more of a gift to me than it is to you, Hargreeves.”

“Yeah, I knew there had to be something in it for you,” Diego said, grinning down at the box.

It made sense, honestly. Diego was getting along better with the police these days, which meant calls. No Eudora— that was always going to sting, her absence like a heavy hole, but he was putting himself out there; starting to make connections. Connections that needed his input at odd hours. He’d gotten seasoned at the art of jogging up the stairs when he heard the faint ring, nabbing the handset from the desk before it stopped ringing, and carrying it down to the boiler room to answer it.

“Thank you,” Diego said, looking up at Al. “This is gonna make things a lot easier.”

“No problem,” Al said. “You tell me when you’re getting back in the ring to fight, though. Hard to find a tough guy like you these days to replace you.”

“I’ll get there when I get there,” Diego said. “Thanks, man. I appreciate it.”

“You tell me,” Al repeated, and he made his way out of the boiler room.

Diego sat looking at the box for a few moments, and then he stood up. He wasn’t about to sit there waiting for someone to call.

When Diego walked into the atrium of the Academy, Luther was passed out cold on the sofa.

Diego stopped. When was the last time he saw Luther asleep? He looked younger, somehow, all the creases in his forehead smoothed out; a strange contrast to the imposing bulk of his body. His face was slack enough that it almost seemed like he’d never wake up.

“Hey, Diego,” Luther said, opening his eyes.

“Didn’t mean to wake you,” Diego said. “You all right, man?”

“I was asleep,” Luther said. His eyes tracked upwards to Diego. “Are you looking for something?”

“Nah,” Diego said, stretching. The atmosphere in the room felt heavy and languid in the afternoon sunlight. “Thought I’d drop by and say hi to Mom, maybe hit the training room.”

“Don’t you live in a gym?” Luther said. “I’d have thought you could train there.”

“Not with knives I can’t. Al already gave me a warning.”

Luther looked up at him. Diego could see his mind working, extrapolating, leading him to images of a blade cutting through a punching bag, spilling sand on the ground.

“So I’m just passing though,” Diego said. He squinted. Luther looked a little bleary-eyed. “You doing okay?”

It was a risky question. The answer was probably gonna be no, but Diego never really knew what to do about it.

“Well,” Luther said, stretching— damn, his torso was big— “I was tired, so I thought I’d take a nap.”

“That’s it?” Diego said.

“Yes.”

“The way you were telling it, I thought you were going to tell a story.”

“No, that’s all there is,” Luther said. He bit his lip. “Can I ask you a question?”

“How much are you gonna hate it if I say no?”

“You don’t have trouble sleeping, do you?” Luther said.

“Are you serious?” Diego said. “Of course I have trouble sleeping. Pretty sure that’s a prerequisite of being in this fucked-up family.”

Luther didn’t say anything. Diego dragged one of the armchairs up to the sofa near his head and took a seat. His eyes couldn’t help but catch on Luther’s supine body, fitting into the sofa just a little too tightly. 

“I’m not an insomniac,” Luther said. “I mean, it’s— well, it’s not a major problem or anything, but once I wake up in the middle of the night, it’s hard to get back to sleep. And it’s tricky to fall asleep in the first place.” He frowned. “I’m an insomniac, aren’t I?”

“Like I said, you’re not alone,” Diego said. “If you’re lying there and you can’t get back to sleep, get up and do something. Learn to deal with it. It’s not the end of the world.”

“What do you do?” Luther said.

“When I can’t sleep?” Diego said. “I don’t know. Varies. Sometimes I call Allison.”

“The time difference would certainly make that convenient,” Luther said.

“Exactly,” Diego said.

“But if you’re calling her, I can’t call her.”

“Call me,” Diego said.

“If you’re actually asleep, I wouldn’t want to wake you up,” Luther said.

“Listen, I just got a phone installed in my room,” Diego said. “The novelty of it’s astounding. Give me a call.”

“I’ll consider it,” Luther said. “But I don’t want you to think I’m some sort of— it’s only a temporary issue. Once I fit myself into bed—”

“Hold up,” Diego said.

Luther looked up at him expectantly.

“Can I ask you a question?” Diego said. “And you gotta answer me honestly.”

“What is it?” Luther said.

“Are you sleeping in the same twin bed that you did when you were a kid?”

Luther heaved a sigh.

“Holy shit,” Diego said. “You are twice the size of a regular adult man—”

“That’s an exaggeration, and—”

“And you fold yourself up in a _child sized bed_ every night—”

“— I’d really rather you not call attention to it—”

“Man, no wonder you can’t fucking sleep,” Diego said. “I solved your problem, buddy. You need a king bed. Big-ass mattress, down comforter, get yourself comfy. Stretch out all the way.”

“That sounds awfully expensive,” Luther said.

“You spend all your inheritance already?”

“Where would I put it?” Luther said. He looked around, as if the answer would pop out of the nearly-empty atrium. “My bedroom is barely big enough for what’s there.”

Diego opened his mouth.

“Don’t tell me to move into one of the empty bedrooms,” Luther said. “You remember how we all avoided them when we were kids.”

“I am a hundred percent sure Klaus made up the thing about the ghosts of the other thirty-six kids to fuck with us,” Diego said.

“I don’t mind my actual room,” Luther said. “And I know that doesn’t make sense to you. But it’s only the bed that’s a problem, and I can deal with that. I’ll take more naps.”

A few different remarks were circling in Diego’s mind. It would be painfully easy to open his mouth and shoot off about how Luther only slept in his childhood bedroom to reclaim the lost glory of being Number One, or to tell him that trying to be stoic was only making him look more pathetic. Diego bit his tongue, distracting himself with the sight of Luther laid out vulnerable on the sofa.

He wasn’t gonna unpack what was sticking in his mind about that.

“King size guy needs a king size bed,” he said, reaching down to clap Luther on the shoulder. “Think about it.”

“I will,” Luther said.

“And you call me if you need anything,” Diego said. He turned and walked out of the room, feeling Luther’s eyes on his back.

The phone in the boiler room woke Diego up like a siren. Diego jolted upright in less than a second, hand automatically flying to his hidden knife, until he reached for the phone and picked it up.

“Who the hell is this?” Diego said, holding the receiver to his ear.

“Is this not a good time?” Luther’s voice said.

Diego ground the heel of his hand into his eye. “What’s up, man? You all right?”

“Go back to sleep,” Luther said hurriedly. “I knew this was a bad idea.”

“Nah, I’m already awake,” Diego said. He stretched. “Rough night, huh?”

“I’m pacing in the hallway,” Luther said.

Diego bit his tongue. He could picture it. Luther in his pajamas, walking up and down the shadowy upstairs of the Academy with a heavy expression on his face.

“How long have you been pacing for?” he said.

“Forty-five minutes,” Luther said.

“Damn,” Diego said. “You buy that new bed yet?”

“I’m thinking about it,” Luther said.

“Keep thinking,” Diego said. “You need your rest, big guy.”

“I know,” Luther said, “but you of all people should know that I can’t just—”

“Yeah, you don’t wanna rock the boat and buy furniture, we get it, you’re a dweeb,” Diego said. He stifled a yawn. “What do you usually do to get yourself to sleep?”

“I lie in bed and close my eyes.”

Diego rolled his eyes. The darkness in his room was heavy, but he was starting to wake up more than he intended. “Is that really it?”

“Remember how Dad taught us to play dead?”

Diego blinked. It had been one of the more fucked-up of Dad’s lessons. He remembered lying slumped on the floor of the training room, holding his breath, trying not to move a muscle as Dad lectured them all about the value of letting your enemy underestimate you. It had been one of the only lessons he’d been better at than Luther.

“When you’re in your bed trying to get to sleep,” Diego said, “are you saying that you pretend you’re _dead?”_

“Yes,” Luther said.

The thought of Luther lying stone-faced and slack flashed uncomfortably in Diego’s mind. Diego shifted. “That’s fucked up, man. You should see a therapist about that shit.”

“That’s some advice to hear from you.”

Diego inclined his head. “Not my thing, yeah, but Klaus seems into it.”

“I’m not Klaus.”

“And that’s a good thing,” Diego said. He let his head tip back against the wall. “So, playing dead.”

“Right.”

“Does it work?”

“Fairly well,” Luther said. “If I try to stay still and concentrate on my breathing, then that’s workable.”

“Have you tried breathing tonight?” Diego said.

“Yes,” Luther said. “Before I got up I was doing it.”

“How long you been awake, Luther?”

“Two hours,” Luther said.

“Christ,” Diego said. Even during his worst restless nights, he usually floated back to sleep, however light, after about an hour and a half. “You must be exhausted.”

“Should I call Allison?” Luther said. His voice was starting to sound a little rough. “Since you’re on the phone with me, I assume you’re not talking to her.”

“What time is it?” Diego said.

“Three,” Luther said.

“You can try,” Diego said, “but she might be trying to get some shut-eye herself.”

Luther exhaled over the line.

“Where are you now?” Diego said.

“Standing in the hallway,” Luther said.

Luther, pajama-clad, leaning against the wall, ear against the phone in the hallway. Diego shifted again. Part of him wanted to tell Luther to get back in bed and play dead until dawn, tell him better luck next time, put down the phone and roll over and let the three A.M. blackness submerge him again. He’d told Luther to call him, though.

“There’s one other thing you could do,” Diego said.

“Drugs don’t work on me,” Luther said. “I need about a bottle of sleeping pills to knock myself out.”

“Hold up,” Diego said. “You swallow a lot of bottles of sleeping pills?”

“Not anymore.”

Diego probably should bring that up with him again when it wasn’t three in the morning.

“I was thinking of something else,” Diego said. “Something a little more natural.”

“What is it?”

“I’ll tell you, but you gotta promise not to be too scandalized,” Diego said. He grinned into the darkness. “I don’t want to picture your shocked face.”

“Diego, just tell me.”

“Have you tried jerking off?”

There was a silence.

“To get to sleep?” Luther said.

“Yeah,” Diego said. “Nature’s sleep aid, man. Feels great.”

“I know how it feels,” Luther said. “I’ve done it before.”

“Good first step,” Diego said. If Luther had said he’d never masturbated before, he would have— he didn’t know what he would have done. Something drastic, probably. He yawned. “Try it.”

“I’m not doubting it’ll feel— good,” Luther said, “but usually, I’ve found that it, uh, wakes me up. Gives me more energy. I don’t need that.”

“Nah, it’ll wear you out,” Diego said. “The satisfaction.”

“I suppose,” Luther said. He still sounded doubtful. “Do you do it?”

“Oh yeah,” Diego said. “All the time.”

There was a short pause on the other end of the line.

“You need me to talk you through it?” Diego said.

He’d meant it to come out flip. A little close to the bone, maybe, if Luther really had those kinds of issues with sex, which it wasn’t impossible to imagine. But instead, Diego’s voice sounded low, relaxed, almost conspiratorial in the darkness.

“Would you?” Luther said.

“You really need it?” Diego said.

“I want to get more than three hours of sleep,” Luther said.

“Right,” Diego said. He’d done weirder things. His heart was starting to beat a little quickly.

“What should I do?”

“Get in bed,” Diego said. “Unless the phone cord doesn’t stretch that far.”

“No, I installed a new one,” Luther said. “Cordless.”

“Look at you,” Diego said. “Keeping up with the times. You got yourself in bed with the phone?”

“Yes,” Luther said, sounding almost pleased. “What should I do next?”

“You have tissues?”

“Yes.”

“I mean,” Diego said, “you probably know this part goes, big guy.”

“You said you’d talk me through it,” Luther said.

Diego let the silence lie. Maybe Luther would gather himself together; tell Diego he could handle it. But Luther was alone in that room, and Diego felt a surge of protectiveness as he thought about those dark halls and Luther lying in his pitifully small bed under the window in his room.

“What do you usually think about?” Diego said.

“I don’t know.”

“You think about Allison?” Diego said.

There was a guilty silence.

“Look, this is gonna take a lot longer if you pretend you’re a blushing virgin,” Diego said. “You think about your sister when you jerk off, no big deal. You ever get your hands on that swimsuit shoot she did?”

“It felt wrong to,” Luther said.

“Uh huh,” Diego said. “Get yourself in your hand and I’ll tell you about it.”

Silence.

“Or not,” Diego said. If he was being honest, that was kind of a relief. It had felt deeply, urgently important to memorize every detail of Allison’s image in a bikini when he was nineteen, but now that the years had drained away, the picture in his mind was starting to get blurrier. “When’s the last time you had sex?”

“It’s not a memory I think about too often.”

Girl from the rave, Luther’s eyes red, door slamming shut. Klaus told him about it, way back when. Diego bit his tongue.

“You should, uh,” Luther said. “You should do the talking.”

“What do you want to hear me talk about?” Diego said.

“You can tell me about the last time you had sex,” Luther said.

“Last time I had sex,” Diego repeated. He squinted into the darkness. He flicked through his previous partners in his mind— not a guy, nope. Not Eudora, either. He finally settled on a memory and adjusted the phone against the side of his head. “There was this girl at the gym who came up to me after one of my matches.”

“Girls just come up to you?” Luther said.

“Sometimes,” Diego said. Luther didn’t need to know how scarce that was. “She was crazy into me. She was getting all up in my space and everything. So I took her down to my room.”

“Right after the match?”

“Yeah,” Diego said. “Soon as we closed the door, we were all over each other. She had my clothes off in like half a second. She was hot, too, I’m remembering she was wearing this little bra—”

“What did you do with her?” Luther interrupted him.

“I ate her out,” Diego said. “Laid her right out on my bed and went in.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever done that before,” Luther said.

“’S good,” Diego said. “Girls like it. Especially if you’re good at it.”

“Are you good at it?”

“You seen my mouth?” Diego said.

There was an inhale on the other end of the line. Diego wondered in a flash of a second if he should tell Luther how good his lips looked around someone’s cock, how he could hollow his cheeks and take it deeper and let his tongue flick over it, but he pushed the thought down.

“So I ate her out,” Diego said. “She was getting all riled up.”

“Right,” Luther said. His voice sounded strained. “Of course.”

“Foreplay, baby,” Diego said. “It’s an art.”

“Did you, ah,” Luther said. “Did you—”

“Yeah, man, I fucked her,” Diego said, stretching out. His cock was starting to thicken in his boxers. It wasn’t even a particularly interesting story. “You’re really getting into this, huh?”

“Please keep going,” Luther said.

“I got you,” Diego said. “So I got myself ready and everything and climbed over her, and…” He made a face. There was something cold and lewd about all the words that were coming to mind. He didn’t want to assault Luther with a cheap imitation of bad porn. He searched in his mind, tongue between his teeth. Couldn’t take too long, though, because Luther was lying in bed and gripping himself and waiting for Diego to go further and damn, Diego was really getting hard, wasn’t he?

“I took care of her,” Diego said. “I did her good.”

“Tell me what you did,” Luther said.

“I was on top of her,” Diego said, “and I was in her, and she was liking it. A lot.”

“A lot,” Luther echoed. There was a shifting sound on the other end of the line, and a creak like a musty twin mattress.

“Whole lot,” Diego said. “I told you I’m good.”

Luther let out a gasp. 

“You thinking about it?” Diego said. The lines were blurring. His mind flicked back and forth between the memory of the girl, sweaty and shuddering in his bed, the bed he was lying in right now, to Luther thrusting into his fist at the Academy, and he could feel his own cock tenting in his boxers. “You thinking about getting buried that deep in someone? Being everything, in that one little moment, where you’re all they can think about— fuck—”

“Diego,” Luther choked out, and Diego couldn’t parse the exact need in his voice. “I’m—”

“So fucking good,” Diego said. “You gotta— c’mon, big boy, you better be picturing it now—”

There was a noise, a gasp or a cry, and then a long exhale.

“You get there?” Diego said.

“Yeah,” Luther said. He sighed. “Thank you, Diego.”

“No problem,” Diego said. 

Was there a problem? His head was spinning.

“I think I can sleep now,” Luther said. “I’ll let you go.”

“You do that,” Diego said, and he hung up the phone and rolled over.

It didn’t take long. Diego’s hand was down his boxers in an instant. His mind had only one track now, and he closed his eyes and gripped himself in firm strokes, and he came into his hand in the darkness, picturing Luther’s huge, sleeping body under the moonlight from the window.


	2. Chapter 2

“Hey, Mom,” Diego said, walking up the stairs to the balcony over the atrium.

“Hello, Diego,” Grace said, turning around from where she was meticulously brandishing a feather duster. She gave him a dazzling smile. “Are you hungry?”

“Nah, I’m good,” Diego said. He scratched his eyebrow. “You got a minute?”

“Of course I do,” Grace said. “I’m finishing the dusting.”

“Great,” Diego said, following her as she walked down the hallway. Her high heels made a crisp clack on the hardwood. “Can I ask you something?”

“Always,” Grace said, standing on her tiptoes to poke the feather duster into the crevices of the carved woodwork motifs on the walls.

“How’s Luther doing?” Diego said, leaning against a column.

“You were here two days ago at four thirty-four P.M.,” Grace said. “You spoke to Luther in the atrium. Didn’t he tell you then?”

“I thought he might not be telling me everything,” Diego said.

“Of course,” Grace said, turning around. She smiled. “According to protocols set in place by Luther Hargreeves, Number One, self-respect and mutual trust are essential to the next phase of the Umbrella Academy, and I’m no longer authorized to share biometric or geographic positioning data about family members without their consent. In fact, this household has been stripped of ninety percent of its surveillance and recording devices. Isn’t that interesting?”

“Wow,” Diego said. “Times are changing, huh?”

“Oh, you know what they say, Diego,” Grace said. “Times change, people change.”

“Do they?” Diego said.

He could see the difference between the place on the wood where Grace had dusted and the places she hadn’t, but only barely. The house hummed with the same sounds he remembered from when he was a kid; the rumble of appliances and the habitual clicks and creaks of an old building. Grace’s painted-on makeup hadn’t budged from its design from twenty years ago. He watched as she turned back around and dusted another foot of carved wood.

“You said next phase,” Diego said.

“I did,” Grace said cheerfully.

“Can you tell me any more about that?”

“It’s a work in progress,” Grace said happily. “But Luther’s coming up with _such_ good ideas. Although it will be tricky fitting the California king bed up the stairs.”

“Hey, Diego,” Allison said, picking up on the second ring. “This is earlier than you usually call.”

“Yeah, I’m not trying to sleep for once,” Diego said. “You busy?”

“Not particularly,” Allison said. “You called at a good time, actually. Claire’s taking a nap.”

“Tell her that her favorite uncle called,” Diego said.

“And she’ll know that’s you, huh?”

“Who else?”

“Diego, she has three other uncles.”

“Yeah, but count ‘em,” Diego said, pinning the phone between his ear and his shoulder. He held out his hand to count out the siblings on his fingers. “Klaus? You showed her a picture of him and she said he looked ‘scary.’”

“I shouldn’t have told you that,” Allison said. “You’re way too smug.”

“Five is nobody’s favorite,” Diego said, “because he’s a little prick.”

“You know there doesn’t have to be a favorite, right? You’re aware that you can all be equal in my five-year-old’s esteem?”

“So that leaves me and Luther,” Diego said.

“I’ll tell her you called, Diego.”

“You do that,” Diego said. “You been up to much lately?”

“Job hunting,” Allison said ruefully. “I shouldn’t complain. I’m fortunate enough to have the savings I do to live on, but… I don’t know. I’m starting to realize I’ve never had a job other than movie star.”

“Can’t relate,” Diego said. “Come back east and I’ll teach you how to mop floors.”

“It’s funny you say that, actually, because I’ve been talking to Luther,” Allison said.

“Really,” Diego said, looking out across the room. It made his stomach twist to think of Luther and Allison stealing moments together on the phone, calling each other to share all those little secrets they’d always had, like nothing had changed since they were kids.

“Yeah,” Allison said. “He asked me if I had any plans to come back and visit.”

“Do you?” Diego said.

“I could,” Allison said. “I don’t know, Diego. I’ve had it written on my agenda for a week now to call my travel agent and I haven’t done it.”

“Not that I don’t wanna see you,” Diego said, “but you don’t need to come out here just because Luther told you to.”

“He seemed really insistent.”

“Wouldn’t worry about it if I were you. Luther’s a stubborn dick about everything.”

“Takes one to know one, huh?”

Diego clicked his tongue. “I don’t deny it.”

“I don’t envy Luther, though,” Allison said thoughtfully. “I complain about the job hunt, but at least I have a life, you know?”

“Tell me about it,” Diego said. “Everyone’s always asking when I’ll cash in on my inheritance and buy a real place, but I got this boiler room with my own money, you know?”

“I do,” Allison said. “And I’ve seen your boiler room, Diego. It’s not that bad.”

“Can’t find a master bedroom in Calabasas equipped with a boiler that hisses all night, can you?”

“Nope,” Allison said. Diego could hear the smile in her voice. “Definitely, definitely not.”

“There you go,” Diego said. He stretched. “Glad you get it, at least. You deserve the distance.”

“I feel bad being so far away, though,” Allison said. “You know I’ve been trying to be a better sister to all of you.”

“Don’t be so hard on yourself,” Diego said. “Everyone’s got their shit, you know?”

“I know that.”

“How’s Vanya doing?”

“It’s interesting that out of the two of us, the only one who talks to Vanya regularly is the one who lives across the country from her.”

“I saw Vanya like six weeks ago,” Diego said.

“Wow,” Allison said. “That’s a devoted brother right there.”

“I’m keeping up,” Diego said. “I talk to Luther practically every damn day.”

“I’m sorry,” Allison said, “did you just say that you talk to Luther practically every damn day?”

“You got a problem with that?”

“No,” Allison said, “but I’d have thought that you would.”

“Times change,” Diego said.

There was a silence. It was sort of freeing, Diego thought, that he couldn’t see Allison’s face. He had no idea what the hell she was thinking. He let his head tip back against the wall.

“I got a question, actually,” he said.

“Shoot.”

“You think Luther’s been acting weird lately?”

“I mean,” Allison said, “I barely ever see him, Diego. I don’t really have that much to measure against.”

“Fair,” Diego said. “But— does he seem like he’s planning something?”

“Planning something?”

“I was talking to Mom,” Diego said. “She was saying something about Luther changing her programming.”

“Are you sure it wasn’t just repairs?” Allison said. “I mean, I feel like Luther could have been doing maintenance on her.”

“Mom doesn’t need maintenance,” Diego said.

“How do you know?”

“She’s doing fine.”

“Is she doing fine because she doesn’t need maintenance or is she doing fine because Luther’s been secretly maintaining her?”

“I don’t want to picture those meaty fingers of his poking around in her wires,” Diego said. “And I don’t like hearing her talk like she’s a— like she’s a robot.”

“I hear you,” Allison said.

“She acted like she was being upgraded,” Diego said.

“Right.”

“If he fucks up her programming—”

“Diego, do you really think Luther’s trying to sabotage Grace?”

Diego bit his tongue.

“I don’t think he’s _trying_ to sabotage her,” he said.

“Listen, I don’t think you need to worry,” Allison said. “I mean, obviously I’m not there, but I feel like you can relax a little bit. If Grace is in danger, I promise Luther’s going to fix it.”

“That’s not even the issue,” Diego said

“Then what is the issue?”

There was a scab on the knuckle of Diego’s thumb. Diego picked at it, considering. He wasn’t about to accuse Luther of plotting to fuck with Mom, because even he had limits, but her words kept replaying in his mind, an unsettling status update. Personal information. Privacy. A king bed. Diego wasn’t dumb enough to ignore the connections, but it was bugging him that he couldn’t pinpoint what exactly Luther was doing. But if he laid it all out for Allison she’d probably go _wait, you’ve been talking Luther through jerking himself off so he can sleep?_ and he’d either have to backtrack or tell the truth. Nah, I’ve been telling Luther stories about my own sex life just to hear the way his breath hitches when I tell him I’ve been with girls. And even if he got over that hurdle it would be too easy for Allison to stand in her cushy Hollywood mansion and tell him he was overreacting. Not something he was really that keen on experiencing.

“I think he’s making changes,” Diego said, finally. “For better or for worse.”

“I can see that,” Allison said. “It must suck for him to rattle around that house by himself if nothing’s changed.”

Especially with the lack of sleep. Diego’s thumb was starting to bleed. “Yeah.”

“I hope he’s not still hung up on me,” Allison said.

Diego raised his eyebrows. “You think he’s hung up on you?”

“I mean,” Allison said, “we were both hung up on each other for about fifteen years.”

“And you got over him, huh?”

“I moved on,” Allison said.

Diego squinted. He couldn’t quite tell if that was an answer.

“I’m glad you and Luther are getting along these days, though.”

“Yeah, me too,” Diego said. Was Luther gonna call him tonight? No way was he going to be hanging around by the phone, but he’d better come up with some vanilla hetero fantasies to feed him.

“Maybe I should come back and see you,” Allison said. “I miss you, Diego.”

“Miss you too, doll.”

“And I miss Luther.”

“That’s where you lose me,” Diego said. He eyed the clock on the wall. Luther probably wouldn’t call before two in the morning. “But seriously, don’t fly over unless you’re sure it’s worth it. We’ve all got lives.”

“I’ll think about it,” Allison said. “I’ll talk to you later, Diego.”

“Remember to tell Claire I called,” Diego said, and he dropped a kiss on the phone as he hung up.

This time when the phone went off, Diego was prepared for it. He wasn’t even asleep. Instead of reaching for a knife he rolled over and grabbed the handset.

“What’s up, Sleeping Beauty?” he said.

“Neither of those words applies to me,” Luther said, “but good evening, Diego.”

“Christ,” Diego said, “your self-esteem, buddy. That’s just sad.”

“Is insulting me supposed to make me feel better?”

“What do you need?” Diego said.

There was a moment of hesitation. Diego briefly wondered if he’d gone too far, but then Luther said, “You said I could call you if I needed help, right?”

Luther’s voice was achingly earnest.

“Yeah, big guy,” Diego said. “I’ll help you.”

“I can’t sleep,” Luther said.

“Thought I fixed that for you,” Diego said. “I taught you how to use your dick, didn’t I?”

“It stopped working,” Luther said.

“Your dick stopped working?”

“No,” Luther said, “the, uh. The scenario you were talking about.”

“How?”

“It doesn’t do it for me anymore.”

“Huh,” Diego said. 

“I’ve been thinking about it,” Luther said, “a lot, but I went through it too many times, and I need— I don’t know. I’m sorry to bother you. You should sleep.”

“Nah, you’re good,” Diego said. “Wrung everything you could out of the fantasy, huh?”

“Yes.”

“So you want me to tell you a new bedtime story,” Diego said.

“I don’t like that phrasing,” Luther said.

“That’s what I’m hearing, though.”

“You know what I mean,” Luther said.

“Yeah, I know what you mean,” Diego said. He cracked his knuckles. He didn’t know why he was feeling so jumpy all of a sudden. “You got any special requests? ’Cause I’d hate to disappoint you, big man, but I’m not really in the habit of having sex with random girls that often. Might run out of stories if you keep milking me for them.”

“Have you ever been with a man?” Luther said.

In the darkness, Diego raised his eyebrows.

“I have,” he said.

“I’d like to hear about that,” Luther said.

“Really,” Diego said.

“Is there a problem?”

Diego let the silence linger. He’d always kept it in his mind, sort of an axiom, that Luther was heterosexual. Number One, golden boy, perfectly straight. When they were all teenagers, Diego and Klaus had been the rebels, sneaking out late and sharing cigarettes and looking at each other sideways, but Diego was unnerved by how easy it was for his mind to reshuffle the past and supply for him the image of Luther casting lingering looks in the direction of some faceless guy. Diego’s stomach lurched and he didn’t even know why.

“Diego?”

“Didn’t really expect it from you,” Diego said.

“You learn something new every day,” Luther said. His voice was distressingly mild. “If you’d rather hang up—”

“I didn’t say I wasn’t game,” Diego said. “You wanna hear about the boiler repairman?”

“All right,” Luther said.

Diego grinned, on track now. He could see the fantasy unfurling before him, and he stretched out on his bed, getting comfortable. “You in bed right now?”

“Yeah,” Luther said.

“All cozy and shit?”

“Start talking, Diego,” Luther said.

“Damn, you’re getting impatient on me,” Diego said. “All right. Couple years ago, late September, the boiler went crazy. It was still summer but it got turned on and nobody knew how to fix it, and it was hell in my room, you know?”

“That sounds awful,” Luther said. “You should have come and stayed at the Academy.”

“No way,” Diego said. “I can handle a little heat. It wasn’t that bad.”

“You just said it was hell.”

“And the upshot of it was that I took off all my clothes whenever I got home,” Diego said, talking over him.

“Ah,” Luther said. “I… I see.”

“Right, so you know what I’m getting at,” Diego said. “Repair guy comes in the door— because Al forgot to inform him that someone lives in there, apparently— and I’m lying there in bed, practically sticking to the sheets.”

“Oh lord,” Luther said. “Please tell me you were wearing pants, at least.”

“I was wearing shorts,” Diego said. “Perfectly respectable.”

“But only shorts,” Luther said.

“Does the nipple ring count as an accessory?” Diego said.

“Excuse me?” Luther choked.

“Although I think I had a barbell in it back then,” Diego said. “If I recall correctly. You doing all right there, buddy?”

“When did you get your _nipple_ pierced?” Luther said.

Diego brought a hand to the left side of his chest, rubbing his fingers over the ring. “I’ve been around.”

“Christ,” Luther said.

“Looks good on me,” Diego said. “I don’t regret it.”

“I’m,” Luther said, and there was an indecipherable noise on the other end of the line. “I’m picturing it, Diego.”

“Good,” Diego said. His stomach twisted as he thought of Luther actually laying eyes on it, Diego bare in front of him. He cleared his throat. “Repair guy was floored.”

“What did you say to him?”

“I told him to do his thing, don’t mind me. And I got up and got out of his way, and I could tell he was getting a little hot and bothered. But I’m not gonna put on a shirt in a ninety-degree room when I’m already sweaty as hell, am I?”

“Right,” Luther said faintly.

“So he’s looking at me, and I’m doing my stuff—”

“Were you _masturbating_ in front of him?”

“Perv,” Diego said. “I wasn’t. I had real shit to do. I was washing dishes and he was doing the boiler and he was pretending not to be looking at me.”

“Were you looking at him?”

“‘Course I was,” Diego said. “Man, he was ripped.”

“Is that the type of guy you usually go for?” Luther said.

“Sure,” Diego said. “I like a guy who looks like he could rough me up a little bit.”

“Huh,” Luther said.

There was a silence.

“So he finishes with the boiler and he gives me one last look,” Diego said, “and I can tell he wants me. So I lean back and kinda spread my legs and I go, ‘You want a tip?’”

“There is no way you said that to an actual human person,” Luther said.

“How would you know?” Diego said. In reality, Diego had given the repair guy a wink, maybe flexed at him a little more than necessary, and the guy had made a quick, furiously blushing exit. “You got no frame of reference.”

“That sounds like something out of bad porn.”

“Since when do you watch bad porn?” Diego said, grinning into the phone.

“Never mind,” Luther said. “Just keep talking.”

“Uh huh,” Diego said. “So I nod my head at him and he comes over to the bed and he sits down. And I get down in front of him, on the floor on my knees—”

“You’ve got a thing for oral,” Luther said.

“Yeah,” Diego said. “There an issue with that?”

“No,” Luther said. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be interrupting.”

“Interrupt me all you want,” Diego said. If they’d been talking during the day, he’d have gone off in two seconds if Luther kept breaking in, but in the seam between late night and early morning, everything felt a little more fluid. The dark air felt so thick, he might as well have been swimming in it. “’S for you, after all. You want me to pivot away from the oral?”

“I want you to keep talking, Diego.”

“Yeah, all right,” Diego said. “So I was down between his thighs and I got him in my mouth. You ever thought about getting a blowjob?”

“Yeah,” Luther said. His voice was a little distant.

“It’s real good,” Diego said.

“Do you like, ah, giving them?”

“Sure I do,” Diego said. It made his gut twinge to think of Luther, brow furrowed, trying to picture what it would feel like to get head. “Repair guy was into it, too.”

“I can imagine,” Luther said.

There was something bone-deep satisfying, Diego reflected, about the strain in Luther’s voice. The image came flooding back into his mind: Luther on the bed, phone nestled next to his ear, hand down his pajama pants.

“Yeah,” Diego said. “Didn’t mind the heat so much anymore. I was workin’ at him and he told me—”

Told him what? His mind blanked. Every phrase that came to him was too intimate or too Eudora or too gay or too vulnerable. Not for Luther.

“Told you what?” Luther said.

“Nothing,” Diego said. “I was sucking his dick, he was speechless. How you doin’ over there?”

“I’m,” Luther said, “ah—”

“You almost there?”

“Um,” Luther said.

“Talk to me,” Diego said. “Tell me what you want, big man, I’ll keep going.”

“I already finished,” Luther said.

“Damn,” Diego said. “How long have you kept me talking?”

“Not that long,” Luther said, unconvincingly.

“What was it that did it for you?”

Silence.

“No shame,” Diego said, shifting onto his side. The mortification at having pulled out all his dirty talk stops for nothing was starting to roll over into curiosity, and he was feeling more than a little awake.

“Do you really have a nipple piercing,” Luther said, “or were you making that up?”

Diego laughed. It came out low in the darkness, a little velvety, a little mean. “You know I do, baby.”

“Baby?” Luther said.

Diego’s skin prickled. He felt a little too exposed. “I don’t know why you’re so shocked. Just because you’re too sheltered to imagine letting a stranger touch your chest doesn’t mean I never did it.”

Luther sighed. “I’ll let you go, Diego. It’s late.”

“Yeah, go sleep,” Diego said, rubbing his eyes. He felt suddenly exhausted, whiplashed and shaken, half-hard and three-quarters awake. What time even was it? Was it tomorrow yet?

“Thank you,” Luther said. “You know I appreciate the favor.”

“Anything for you,” Diego said.

It was supposed to sound sarcastic. On the other end of the line, Luther was silent.

“Glad your dick still works,” Diego said, and he hung up the phone.


	3. Chapter 3

Diego pulled his car into park outside the Academy. Luther had called him and asked him to come over this afternoon, in a voice laden with meaning that Diego couldn’t quite read. Diego had asked him why, on the phone. Luther had said it was a surprise. (Diego had stuck a condom in the pocket of his jeans before he left the gym. Hey, couldn’t hurt, right?)

He unbuckled his seatbelt and got out of the car, shutting the door. The Academy building looked handsome and imposing in the cloudy afternoon, sitting smugly in its sprawl over the whole city block. The gates were open, and Diego looked around as he walked up to the doors— was he imagining it, or were the bushes a little more trimmed than usual? He had no reason to be anxious. If Luther was being a cryptic fucker, that wasn’t Diego’s problem. Diego reached the door, took a deep breath, patted his pocket for the condom— did he even need it?— and cracked his knuckles, reaching for the door.

“Hi,” Luther said, opening the door the moment Diego touched the handle. “I’m glad you came.”

“Yeah, no problem,” Diego said, stepping inside the foyer. He looked around. “You wanna tell me what the surprise is?”

“I bought a bed,” Luther said, carefully closing the door behind Diego.

“Wow,” Diego said. “Good on you, man.”

Luther’s throat worked. “Do you want to see it?”

Diego raised his eyebrows. “You trying to proposition me?”

“You can come upstairs and see it,” Luther said. “You know, because you’ll be sleeping in it.”

“I’m sorry,” Diego said, “I’ll be what?”

“You’ll be sleeping there,” Luther said. His voice was confident, but a furrow was starting to appear in his brow. “When you’re… here.”

“Here,” Diego repeated.

Luther was starting to look smaller. His huge shoulders rounded in on themselves and his face was developing an uncertainty, like he was trying to hide in the neck of his sweater.

“What are you planning, exactly?” Diego said. “I’m not saying I’m gonna say no to you and me in a bed—”

Luther lifted his head. Diego held up his hands.

“Maybe,” he said. “Sometime. But you gotta tell me what’s going on.”

He didn’t let his gaze waver. Luther was looking at him, calculating, and Diego held firm until Luther sighed.

“Take a walk with me,” he said, and he turned towards the stairs.

Call him crazy, but Diego was never one for second locations. He knew this was going to be a bad fucking idea the second Luther turned his back, but he followed him up the stairs anyway, light footsteps syncopated with Luther’s heavy ones. The intricate wood carvings on the railings that Mom had been wiping the dust out of them were gleaming now, rich with polish. When Luther stopped to flick on the light switch, the sconces on the walls illuminated the hallway with warm, golden light.

Diego’s stomach lurched horribly. The place hadn’t been this nice since he was a kid.

“Come with me,” Luther said, and wordless, Diego followed him down the hall. The carpet on the hardwood was vacuumed to perfection, crisp and demure. Luther slipped inside the bathroom and turned on the light, motioning for Diego to enter. Shining tiles, flawless grout. Luther reached for the knobs on the sink and turned them on, letting water flow from the faucet.

“See?” he said.

“The sink?” Diego said.

“It didn’t use to work,” Luther said. “Remember? It only did hot water.”

“Oh yeah,” Diego said. He’d spent his last couple teenage years learning to get used to being scalded. “It works now, huh?”

“Feel,” Luther said, taking one of Diego’s hands in one of his big ones and placing it under the spray.

The water cascaded over Diego’s fingers, as neutral as anything.

“Wow,” Diego said, removing his hand and turning the faucet off. He wiped his fingers on his jeans. “Good on you.”

“That’s not all,” Luther said, stepping out of the bathroom. Diego cast a look behind him— had the shower curtain always been that white?— before he turned, stopping in his tracks as Luther reached an enormous arm up to turn off the light, and then following him out into the hall.

Every door was ajar. Diego turned his head as they passed by each bedroom to see immaculately made beds, pillows fluffed and blankets pulled neatly across. They weren’t perfect, not as straight as Mom would make them, and Diego felt sick with the image of Luther doing them up over and over again until they satisfied him. One room’s door was open all the way and Diego caught a glimpse of Five hunched at a desk with his bedding neurotically military-neat behind him.

“And this is ours,” Luther said, opening a door and standing aside.

It was Luther’s room. The mobiles still hung from the ceiling, but Diego could swear they were adjusted a little bit higher, less likely to knock a grown man on the head. The bookshelf still held all his physics textbooks and Hardy Boys novels, and his record collection was probably still in alphabetical order and labeled with which sibling liked what best. But one wall seemed to be pushed back— _pushed_ back, Diego thought, squinting at the massive scrapes on the ceiling, like Luther had braced his whole body against it and shoved, easily doubling the size of the room. And a bed, the biggest king bed Diego had ever seen, made up with a pale blue comforter and at least six or seven pillows, with a bottle of lotion and a box of tissues on the nightstand.

“Wow,” Diego said. “Never seen you spoiling yourself before.”

“It’s not just for me.”

Diego wasn’t looking at him. “Pulling out all the stops to get me to sleep with you, huh?”

“I was thinking you’d come live here, Diego,” Luther said.

“You what?” Diego said.

He was still looking at the bed.

“I fixed the whole place up,” Luther said. Diego could hear him shift his weight. “I was— I’ve been trying to get everyone back. We can all live together. There’s room for all of us, and we can all have space, and if we ever need each other we’ll all be here, and… it wouldn’t be like before. We’d all have each other. For once.”

“No,” Diego said, looking up at him.

“That’s it?” Luther said.

“You could not pay me enough to move back in here,” Diego said.

“You come around here almost every day,” Luther said. “It isn’t that big a stretch to assume you might consider—”

“I’m not gonna consider anything that forces me to take a permanent raincheck on my life to go back to being part of the Umbrella Academy again,” Diego said. “That died when Dad did, big man. You aren’t gonna get it back.”

“I’m not trying to get it back,” Luther said. “I’m trying to move forward.”

“Move forward,” Diego said.

“Yes,” Luther said. A muscle jumped in his jaw. “I’ve been doing repairs. You saw them, Diego, I have been doing everything I possibly can.”

“Everything you possibly can to get your Umbrella Academy Barbie Dreamhouse pipe dream to be a reality,” Diego said. “I’m telling you right now it’s not gonna happen.”

“It’s not impossible.”

“Yeah, it is,” Diego said. He pointed his finger at him. “Tell me how many times you’ve offered Klaus a free bed here.”

“Whenever I see him.”

“He ever say yes?”

“I’m working on it,” Luther said.

“Luther,” Diego said, “has it never occurred to you that if Klaus would rather sleep ass naked in a gutter than come back to live in your house, there’s nothing you could possibly do to get him back?”

Luther’s face tightened. Diego hadn’t thought his lips could press together any more tightly, but Luther’s face somehow managed to look more miserable.

“I’m doing my best,” Luther said.

“You can throw yourself at that brick wall all you want,” Diego said, “but the only person who’s gonna feel it is you.”

“And I’d expect that of Klaus,” Luther said, raising his voice a fraction. “But you’re sensible, Diego, and I’m surprised that you’d turn down the opportunity to—”

He cut himself off. 

“The opportunity to live under your thumb,” Diego said.

“Not under my thumb,” Luther said. He was starting to look stricken. “With me. As equals.”

If Luther wanted, he could pick Diego up in one hand and throw him into the floor. He could raise his voice higher, provoke Diego deliberately, and it would be so easy for Diego to take the bait and lunge at him, and it would be even easier for Luther to pry him off and toss him like a sack of rags. Diego looked up at him, nearly ready to listen to the thumping anger in his heartbeat that was starting to drown out common sense and maul him. He was ninety percent of the way there. But instead, Luther’s face was carved with sadness, despair radiating from his eyes, the set of his mouth.

“Damn,” Diego said. “How lonely did you get?”

“I don’t want your pity,” Luther said.

“Never said I was pitying you,” Diego said. “Must be rough to be rattling around in this shithole by yourself, though.”

“You don’t need to say anything,” Luther said. His face was twisted in a horrible expression. “I’m not dumb.”

“I don’t think you’re dumb,” Diego said. “Nah, you’re pretty smart for an ape, big man, which is why I’m surprised you missed every red fucking flag in this situation. You really think we’re all gonna move back in to keep you company?”

“I think that we all want to make amends,” Luther said. His hands were clenched into fists. Diego didn’t even know if he’d noticed. “Haven’t you seen how much we can lose?”

“You mean the apocalypse?” Diego said. “I don’t know if you noticed, big guy, but we won. We don’t need to think about losing anymore.”

“What world do you live in where you don’t have to think about losing?” Luther said.

“When you get your own life, you don’t have to be so paranoid about that shit,” Diego said. “Let go. I’m not even telling you this to be a dick about it. You’re never gonna _move forward_ if all you think about is how great it is to not be a child soldier constantly throwing yourself into battle for Dad or some shit—”

“The last time I took something for granted,” Luther said, “I lost my body.”

There was a silence like all the sound had been sucked out of the room. Diego didn’t really like to ever picture the accident that had fused Luther’s body into an alloy of determination and despair. He pushed it out of his mind.

“Don’t try the trauma trump card with me,” Diego said, stepping closer to him. “I don’t play that game, man.”

“I’m trying to explain myself.”

“I heard you the first time,” Diego said. His pulse was racing. “And every other time you’ve tried to tell me we’re all gonna get along like a real family again, because to you, the only way a real family can handle each other is if they all live under the same roof, and that’s—”

“I understand what you’re saying, Diego.”

“Do you?” Diego said. “You’re gonna go pick up that phone of yours and call Vanya and tell her she should pack up her apartment, aren’t you?”

“What makes you say that?” Luther said.

“I heard you’ve been talking to Allison,” Diego said.

Luther closed his eyes.

Diego waited.

“I didn’t tell her anything I didn’t tell you,” Luther said, opening his eyes again.

“You sure?” Diego said. “Because she thinks you’re still hung up on her.”

“What?” Luther said. He looked devastated. “Of course not, I know she has her life out there—”

“She has a life, but I don’t?” Diego said.

“I—”

“I swear to God, anything you say to justify this is gonna dig you in deeper.”

Luther drew himself up to his full height. Diego raised his chin to meet his gaze, hard and malevolent.

“Take a swing at me,” he said. “I know you wanna do it.”

“Leave,” Luther said. His voice was low.

“I’ve never wanted to be here,” Diego said. “Not even when we were kids.”

“I said leave, Diego,” Luther said.

Diego looked him in the eye, and he walked out of the room.

Diego found Five in the passenger seat of his car when he yanked open the driver’s side door.

“Holy shit,” he said, nearly hitting his head against the roof as he got in. “Get the fuck out.”

“I’m still trying to wrap my head around the fact that you said all that to him,” Five said, turning to face Diego.

“I didn’t know you were listening,” Diego said acidly. He buckled his seatbelt. He debated kicking Five’s little ass out of the passenger seat, but the adrenaline running through his veins was nearly sickening. There could be worse things than someone keeping him accountable. “You can stay in the car, but you better not lecture me.”

“Of course not,” Five said as they pulled out of the driveway.

Diego drove without a destination. He circled the block, and then circled it again, and then made a left turn when Five uttered a tiny sigh as they were about to enter the loop again. He drove them in another circle, a listless, bigger one, until his heartbeat slowed to a thump, and he pulled over on a side street and parked.

“If you wanna talk, this is your time to do it,” he said.

“Did you really have to call him an ape?” Five said immediately.

“Thought you’d been listening,” Diego said, staring out at the parked car in front of him.

“Christ,” Five said. “You know that you actually can sever family ties, right? It’s not guaranteed to bounce back just because he’s your brother.”

“You say that like you’ve got experience.”

“I haven’t,” Five said. His face looked actually old for once. “But I’m smarter than you, Diego.”

“You know, I’m actually starting to believe you about the family ties thing, because if you hit me with that shit again I might sever you out of this car,” Diego said. “That’s not a thing you can say to people, buddy.”

“Apologies,” Five said. “I didn’t mean to distract.”

“Then what do you mean?”

“I mean that you’re the most important thing in Luther’s life, and if you don’t act with that in mind you’re going to make mistakes that you can’t go back from,” Five said.

Diego’s stomach plunged. He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, keeping his face still, as every interaction he’d had with Luther rolled through his mind. The sound of his breathing over the phone, the tightness in his voice as he was about to come, his eyes opening from his nap when Diego walked in the atrium, and then going back to childhood, every time they went up against each other, the determined set of Luther’s face—

“I figured somebody should tell you,” Five said.

“If Luther’s got all his chips down on me,” Diego said, “maybe he’s the one that should reconsider his position.”

“He doesn’t have all his chips on you,” Five said.

“You said twenty seconds ago that I was the most important thing in his life.”

“You have a plurality of Luther’s affection,” Five said. “The whole is split six ways. There is no majority. But you might have noticed that you’re the only one he’s calling in the middle of the night when he needs to get off.”

“Hold up, you know about that?” Diego said.

“I live in the Academy,” Five said. “He’s not quiet.”

“Goddamn,” Diego said. “He never told me you could hear him.”

“I don’t think he knew,” Five said. He coughed delicately. “He seemed occupied.”

“You are a perv for listening, though,” Diego said, pointing at him. “That shit’s private.”

“Believe me, I’m no voyeur,” Five said. “If I were inclined to listen to you talk with a hand down my pants—”

“Then I would have noticed you stalking me and hiding in my room, yeah, I get it.”

“You wouldn’t notice if I were hiding in your room.”

Diego eyed him.

“To return to the point,” Five said, lacing his hands together in his lap. His position was maddeningly professorial. “You’re mature enough to make the decision of whether to estrange your brother or not.”

“See, but I don’t understand why that’s my decision,” Diego said. “You’re acting like he did nothing wrong here.”

“Why don’t you want to move back to the Academy?”

Five’s voice was light.

Diego looked up at him.

“Why did you?” he said.

“A free room is a free room,” Five said. “I’ve had enough of going it on my own. I can appreciate the benefits of a paid-for mansion with as much space and food and central heating as I could want.”

“It doesn’t bother you that it’s Dad’s house?”

“It isn’t,” Five said.

“All right, I’ll bite,” Diego said. “Then whose is it?”

“Ours.”

“No way,” Diego said, sitting back against his seat. “That house was Dad’s trauma cult for too long, man. He doesn’t have to be alive to run that place. I can still feel him.”

“It’s an interesting philosophical question,” Five said. “Does he have control over it if he can’t make decisions? Would he have control if he were alive, but in a coma? Dead, but channeled by Klaus?”

“Not really in the mood for an ethics class right now.”

“What makes your apartment yours?” Five said. “You don’t own it. It’s barely even an apartment.”

“I worked for it,” Diego said. There was a surge of pride coming to him, not hitting him all at once, but building solid from inside his chest. He hit his hand against the steering wheel. “I walked out of Dad’s house when I was nineteen and I went to the gym and told them I was willing to mop floors, clean shit, wash sweaty towels, whatever it took to get that basement room, and I did it all myself. Didn’t matter that Al’s name was on the deed of the building. I kept a promise and made a reputation. That’s what matters.”

His heart was pounding.

“Quite a story,” Five said. “Your bootstraps must be well-pulled.”

“You asked,” Diego said.

“And you answered,” Five said. “I accept your answer, by the way. By your own logic, Luther owns the Academy.”

“Does he,” Diego said flatly.

“The landlord is dead,” Five said. “There’s no one to make a promise with in that regard. Vanya has her apartment, I believe Klaus subscribes to your own get-up-and-get-out mentality, Allison lives in Los Angeles, and you stand where you stand. I’m perfectly happy to be a tenant. Do you see where I’m going?”

“Yeah, I see,” Diego said.

“I’m not trying to chastise you.”

“Nah, you are,” Diego said. “I said some shit to him I regret.”

“But you didn’t regret all of it, did you?”

Diego heaved a sigh. His mind felt heavy, thoughts pulled out like drawers. “He can rearrange the place however he wants,” he said, “but he doesn’t have the right to treat us like the furniture.”

“No, he doesn’t,” Five said.

“I told him that.”

“I’m glad you did.”

“But I don’t wanna end things for good.”

“I’m glad you don’t.”

“You plan to say anything else?”

“I don’t think so,” Five said.

Diego waited.

“Only that Luther will never own you,” Five said. “And you will never own Luther, and our father will never own any of us, and we might as well all be completely sealed off from each other if it weren’t for the contracts we enter—” 

“Called it,” Diego said, holding up a finger. “You are physically incapable of letting the last word lie. You ever thought about getting your issues sorted out?”

“No,” Five said. “Where are you going?”

Diego had turned the key in the ignition. The car rumbled beneath them. “Back to the Academy, baby.”

“Look at you go,” Five said.

“I’m going to deal with my shit like a man,” Diego said.

“I hear that’s not the preferred phrasing these days, but I’ll let it go if you will.”

“And I’m gonna kiss your brother,” Diego said.

“I’ll vacate the premises accordingly,” Five said, and Diego gave him a grin as he backed the car into the street.

The door to the Academy was still unlocked when Diego eased it open.

He kept his footsteps quiet as he made his way upstairs. All that time vigilante-ing had made him an excellent stealth intruder— one of those skills that would have been killer if he were working on the wrong side of justice— and he instinctively remembered all the loose floorboards that let out obnoxious creaks. Although maybe Luther had gotten down on his hands and knees and fixed them all, pushing them into place with those strong hands of his.

Diego wasn’t going to test his luck, though.

When he got to Luther’s bedroom, the door was open. Diego could see the outline of Luther’s body silhouetted in a miserable hunch on the bed, back to him. He swallowed.

“Hey,” he said. “Can I come in?”

“I thought I told you to leave,” Luther said, without turning around.

“Can we talk?” Diego said, hooking his thumbs into his pockets.

“I think we already did.”

“For real,” Diego said. He swallowed. “Look, I shouldn’t have said that shit to you.”

“Shouldn’t have said what?” Luther said, turning to face him. “The part where you told me I was deluding myself? Or when you said I was smart for an ape?”

His eyes were red-rimmed. Diego’s heart plunged.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “That was uncalled for.”

Luther looked up at him, face exhausted.

Diego inclined his head. “Ape part especially.”

“I get it,” Luther said, and he rubbed a hand over his face, as if he were trying to smooth out the creases in his forehead. “I’m an idiot for thinking you’d move in with me. You and the rest of them. You don’t have to gloat.”

“I’m not here to gloat,” Diego said. He nodded at the bed. “You gonna let me sit?”

Luther shifted over. Diego sat down next to him, careful to leave an inch of space between them, because he was pretty sure that if his thigh touched Luther’s right now, the tension would electrocute them both. 

Diego cleared his throat. “You’re— the work you’re doing with this place, it’s worth something.”

“You don’t have to pretend to care about it,” Luther said wearily. “I’ll fix this, Diego.”

“Nah,” Diego said.

Luther let out a long sigh. Diego took a chance and nudged his leg a little closer to Luther’s, nearly touching, almost touching, and then Luther’s knee brushed his.

“I’m not going to get everyone back together,” Luther said. “You were right.”

“You don’t have to, though,” Diego said.

“And I’m not going to get you to move in, either,” Luther said. He gave Diego a wan smile. “You don’t have to argue with that one.”

“Yeah, I’m not in the market for a new place,” Diego said. He shifted his weight. “Doesn’t mean I’m not willing to make some changes, though.”

“Like what?”

“I wouldn’t mind coming over for dinner every so often,” Diego said, looking up at him.

“Grace’ll be happy to have you,” Luther said.

“Maybe help you clean up the house, too,” Diego said.

“I’ve been in the market for a handsome repairman,” Luther said dryly.

“And maybe following through on some shit that I say at three in the morning,” Diego said, and he reached over and grabbed Luther’s shoulder and kissed him.

That night, Diego’s hand found the phone of its own accord. He reached for the bedside table, grabbing the handset and punching in the familiar number.

Luther picked up on the first ring. “Hargreeves mansion, Luther speaking.”

“Boiler room, Diego speaking,” Diego said.

“What?”

“It’s me,” Diego said.

“Oh,” Luther said. “What do you want, Diego?”

“Can’t sleep,” Diego said, rolling his neck.

“That must be difficult for you,” Luther said.

“I don’t know what to do about it, either.”

“I’m sorry, Diego. There’s no hope for you.”

“Wiseass,” Diego said, grinning into the dark. “You spend too much time with Five.”

“I get some time to myself, though,” Luther said.

“What do you do in it?”

“Masturbate, mostly.”

Diego choked. “That so?”

“Someone taught me well,” Luther said, and Diego swore he could hear that smile over the line. “I hear you need some help?”

“Wasn’t gonna admit it in those terms,” Diego said, “but I wouldn’t say no to a good JOI.”

“JOI?”

“Man, we have watched drastically different amounts of porn in our lives,” Diego said. “That’s okay. That’s a difference we can overcome in this relationship.”

“What’s a JOI, Diego?”

“Jerk off instruction,” Diego said.

“Right,” Luther said. “Ah. I don’t know how good I’ll be, at that.”

“You said you had practice, big guy. Tell me to do what you do to yourself.”

“All right,” Luther said, and he swallowed. “Get— yourself, in your hand.”

“Got it,” Diego said, tugging his cock out of his boxers.

“Are you hard?”

“Getting there,” Diego said, squeezing his cock.

“Well, uh, get there.”

“Wow,” Diego said. “Really descriptive there, buddy.”

“I’m doing my best,” Luther said. “I—”

“Are you touching yourself?”

“Should I be?”

“I want you to,” Diego said. He arched his hips up, pushing his cock into his hand. “God, baby, it was so hard not to picture you when I was talkin’ you through all those fantasies. Lying in that tiny bed with your hand down your pants.”

“I have a real bed now,” Luther said. “You saw it.”

“Self fucking care,” Diego said. “How’s it feel?”

“It feels wonderful.”

“You stretch out all the way?”

“Yeah,” Luther said. “The mattress, it’s, I don’t even know what’s in it. It’s something else.”

“Bed sounds great,” Diego said. “I should visit you in it sometime, huh?”

“Only if you want,” Luther said.

“Someday,” Diego said.

“Whenever you’re ready, Diego.”

“I’ll get there,” Diego said. “Wait a minute, weren’t you supposed to be telling me what to do?”

“I was kind of hoping you’d forget about that,” Luther said. “I think you’re better at this than I am.”

“Aw, don’t get down on yourself,” Diego said. He grinned. “Get down on me, huh?”

“Diego.”

“Getting off track again,” Diego said. He tugged his cock. “I’m thinking about you again now. All laid out in bed for me.”

“I don’t know what else to tell you except just,” Luther said, and Diego pictured him miming rubbing one out. “I don’t know. Do it. And you should keep talking.”

“Keep talking, huh?” Diego said. He clicked his tongue. “You got a thing for my voice, baby?”

“I— maybe.”

“Then I’m gonna tell you what I think you look like right now,” Diego said.

“I wouldn’t think too hard, if I were you,” Luther said.

Diego paused. Luther’s voice was measured, like this particular path of self-hatred were pretty well-trodden.

“Don’t know if you’ve ever tried to not think about something,” he said, “but it doesn’t usually work, big guy.”

“I’ve gotten pretty good at it, actually.”

“Someday when it’s light out,” Diego said, “I’m gonna drive over to the mansion, I’m gonna go upstairs to your room, and I am going to ravish you—” He punctuated it with a stroke of his cock. “—like you deserve, baby boy, I’m gonna pin you to that bed and kiss you ’til you’re panting and grinding your dick up into me—”

Luther moaned.

“Yeah, you like that,” Diego said. “Don’t worry about trying to draw it out, we got all the time in the world. Let yourself have this.”

“I,” Luther said. “Diego, can you call me— you know.”

“You know?”

“The name,” Luther said, “the, the, you just did it—”

“Baby,” Diego said, letting it roll off his tongue. “Oh, big man, all you need to heat you up is a little praise, huh?

“Yes,” Luther gasped.

Normally Luther would prickle at the implication that he needed anything; that he ever wanted to be told he was good, or longed to be somebody’s favorite. Diego was used to that feeling in his blood. But Luther’s breathing was heavy on the other end of the line, choked back, and as Diego arched his back and fucked his cock up into his fist he realized with a swoop in his chest that Luther was falling apart for him, Number One dissolving into pure need.

File that away for something to bring up when his sheets weren’t starting to stick to his legs with sweat and his cock wasn’t hard enough to pound nails.

Not now, though. Diego’s cock was hot in his fist. He jerked himself in his hand, palm warm, fingers tight.

“Please keep talking,” Luther said.

“You did good,” Diego said. “You’re perfect for me, baby. Wish you could see me right now, you got me hot, I’m lyin’ on this bed and it’s a good thing it’s the middle of the night because I swear if there were people upstairs right now they’d hear every noise I was making. And I don’t wanna quiet down. Because I’m not ashamed, baby, feels like I’ve been waiting all this time just to hear you on the other end of the phone—”

Diego didn’t even know what he was saying. He was reaching the nonsensical stretch of sex where his mouth was moving without considering his mind, and all that mattered was his hand and his cock and the noises Luther was making through the phone. His body felt lit up from the inside.

“You close?” Diego said.

“So close,” Luther said. “I need you to keep going, I’m afraid I’m going to—”

“Don’t overthink it,” Diego said.

He could hear Luther’s breathing, tight and labored.

“You got your tissues ready?” Diego said.

“Yes,” Luther said.

“Then come for me,” Diego said.

Luther let out a cry. Diego bit his tongue as he listened, tightening his hand around his cock— Luther must have been tangled up in his sheets by now, alone in that room, and Diego desperately wanted in that moment to lie next to him in the flesh, skin to skin, feeling his huge body going rigid as he came. Diego bit his hand as he groaned, letting the sensation wash over him, the sounds, the deep and heady knowledge of Luther panting on the other end of the phone and he came, shuddering.

There was a silence.

“Wow,” Luther said.

“Tell me about it,” Diego said.

“That was…” There was a pause. The big dweeb was probably trying to shake his head over the phone. “You’re good at that, you know.”

“I aim to please,” Diego said. “You need anything else?”

“I’d take a goodnight kiss,” Luther said.

“Too bad. I’m halfway across the city.”

“You certainly know how to make a man feel cared for, Diego.”

“That’s my specialty,” Diego said. He stretched. His whole body felt relaxed; such a good damn orgasm. “Sweet dreams, baby. I’ll see you around.”

“Good night,” Luther said.

“Good night,” Diego said. He waited for the quiet click of Luther hanging up the line. He let the phone fall from his ear and he leaned over to put it back on the table, placing it back in its little holder and rolling onto his side, closing his eyes, letting himself smile into the pillow.

**Author's Note:**

> [electra-xt](https://electra-xt.tumblr.com/) on Tumblr, taking prompts, come talk to me about TUA!


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